Stockholm Syndrome
by Imihel
Summary: songfic. Harry is locked in a cell, waiting for voldemort to kill him.


A/N: Yay! I finally managed to log in! Which means that now I can upload the damn story. Anyway... This is a one shot based on the song Stockholm Sydrome by Blink-182. I was listening to it and suddenly the whole story came in my head and wouldn't leave until I wrote it all (which took me three weeks... ). Now that it's written, maybe I'll be able to go back to my other stories. I hope.

Disclaimer: i don't own Harry Potter, neither is the song mine.

Warnings : angst, dark fic, death character, madness, ...

**blah, _blah_ **: lyrics (two singers so I put some in italics)

_blah_: flash back. i mainly got it from Prisoner of Azkaban. Just added some words when parts where missing.

Stockholm Syndrome / Blink–182

**This is the first _(thing I remember) _**

**Now it's the last _(thing left on my mind)_**__

My first memory, the death of my parents.__

_Big, blurred shapes were moving around me ... then came a man's voice, shouting, panicking._ __

_"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off –"_

_The sounds of someone stumbling from a room – a door bursting open – a cackle of high-pitched laughter ..._

_Mum takes me outside, running. Tears are falling on me. Someone's approaching. My mother's breathing is short. She puts me on the ground and faces her murderer._

_"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"_

_"Stand aside, you silly girl ... stand aside, now ..."_

_"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead!"_

_"This child must die. Now stand aside ..."_

_"Not Harry! Please ... have mercy ... have mercy ..."_

_His shrill voice is laughing, Mum is screaming. And then those two words ..._

_"Avada Kedavra!"_

_She falls next to me with a soft sound. _

_A body towering above me, red eyes glowing._

_"Avada Kedavra!"_

_A rush of cold wind, a blinding flash of green light and the burning pain on my forehead..._

I come to, cold and bleeding slightly. The Dementors are feeding from my memories and they seem to enjoy it. When they finally leave me, badly shaking on the floor, I wonder if my mother's last breath will be the last thing I hear before I die.

**Afraid of the dark** **_(Do you hear me whisper?)_**

**An empty heart** **_(Replaced with paranoia)_**__

My cell is so dark, I can't see a thing. I fell like a blind man, with only touch and sound to tell him what his surroundings are like.I remember the firsts days after I was thrown in this hell. Always feeling the walls, measuring the distance between them, making sure they weren't closing on me. Exhausting my torn body to ease my troubled mind.

When I found I couldn't move any monger, I started to speak to myself, listening to the echoes, whispering in the dark to keep my sanity. I'm not really sure whether I was successful.

Darkness scare me. I'm sure the walls are taking advantage of the fact that I can't see to sneak closer. At first, I tried to tell myself that this cell was bigger than my old cupboard under the stairs, but now I'm not so sure. If the walls can move – and I swear I can hear them do – then this place could very well be smaller now.

I don't know how, but somehow I got used to this cell. Used to the fear, the cold, to the whispering and the slight madness. Hell, I'm even used to the dementors! It's not like they can suck anymore happiness when I fell so empty. Moreover, what I'm currently going through is probably the worst thing that ever happened to me, so they don't have that much power on me.

This is why I'm mostly left alone, cold and bleeding on the stone floor, blind in the darkness. I only move when I try to keep me warm. I whisper to make sure I still exist, I want to know I'm still myself. And I listen. All the time, even when the dementors come. I know He's watching me. He likes to know I'm finally where I no longer threaten Him. Sometimes I hear and smell the Rat, too. Can't you hear the soft clicking sound his small paws make on the stones?

Where do we go _(Life's temporary)___

**After we're gone _(Like New Years resolutions)_**__

I know I will not leave this place alive. That's the first thing Voldemort told me, well just after the many Cruciatus and other dark curses he used on me. Then he threw me inside this cell.

I'm not afraid of dying. In my opinion, living is much more scarier. I never knew when Voldemort would strike at me or my friends. It's not easy trying to live with a Dark Lord intent on getting your hide. And people say I am the Boy-Who-Lived ! Boy-who-bloody-survived-to-see-everyone-around-him-die would be more adequate. I never had any life of my own, any freedom. I never was given the chance to be myself. I had to be the Dursley's servant, then the Savior of the Wizarding World. Well, enough of that crap. I'm not getting out of that one.

I hope I can be myself after my death. Of course I'd to still exist for that to happen, but since there are ghosts I suppose there is some kind of after life. Or are ghosts just a mere trace of the person, a faint memory acting like the person used to in his or her life? I wonder ... What really happens after death?

Muggles have come up with an awful number of ideas, and they've been killing themselves over it for thousands of years. They still are. Gives them a chance to know if they're right about it, I guess.

Strange haw people can kill just because their neighbors disagrees with what they believe. Wizards and Muggles alike. A simple spell, a gun shot and life is over... So easy to kill... It makes me feel like life is just something temporary, not long-lasting, just like the few moments of happiness the Dementors have been feeding on.

**Why is this hard** **_(Do you recognize me?)_**__

**I know I'm wrong** **_(But I can't help believing)_**__

I don't know how long I've been here. There's no light – Dementors don't need it – so I can't tell day from night. They haven't given me any food, but i can drink all I want. Never emptying bowls of water do have their use. They're just keeping me alive until the moment the Great Snake Bastard finally decide to show off with my killing.

Due to my great feeding, I have no strength left. I can't stand, but I'm not sure if it could change anything. It's not like I can get away, is it? Still, I'd like to know if the walls are really moving.

It's strange, that fear of moving walls (but they do move, I can hear them!). After all, my dear cupboard under the stairs was pretty small. But I can't help feeling like the air is heavier and the walls are closer, ready to move as soon as I stop paying attention to them.

I think I'm insane. Normal people are not obsessed with moving walls, are they ? But still...

I felt something. Someone is watching me again, I just know it! My body tries to curl up as much as possible – which is bloody painful – and I start whimpering, while my mind is looking everywhere and listening for any move of the intruder. I've even stopped my incessant whispering to listen better.

It's not a Dementor, I don't feel their coldness. Not a ghost, I'd be able to see it. Not the Rat, I don't hear his paws. I don't hear anything in fact, except for my pitiful whimpering and my difficult breathing. But I'm sure I felt something move. Was it the walls? Please, not the walls again!

Panic attack. I start to hyperventilate while my mind goes in hyper drive. When I finally manage to calm myself, I can't stop shaking. If only my friends could see me now. Hell, even Snape! Would he be able to recognize me? Their Golden Boy, reduced to this broken body and troubled mind.

Damn I hate my life. I hate being Harry Potter. Just because of one bloody prophecy, they expect me to save the world? They don't even see me as an adult!

They're madder than I am, all of them. At least I know that sending a child against the worst evil wizard and powerful Dark Lord to ever breath is utter despair. I don't believe in miracles, my mother's love will not protect me anymore. Even if I am one of the strongest wizard, which i doubt, I lack the knowledge and experience Voldemort has. He's gonna kill me, end of story. I just hope he does it soon, and then I'll be with my parents and Sirius again.

I'm so tired of my life.

**_I'm so lost, _**

**_I'm barely here_**

**_I wish I could explain myself_**

**_But words escape me_**__

I wake up suddenly, my mind clear for once – but how long will it last?

In this few moments of lucidity, i know that I must escape and get back to the school. I have to keep fighting. Voldemort must not win this war.

But how can I achieve that? I'm crazy most of the time, I haven't eaten anything for Merlin knows how long, my legs are probably broken and there is a throng of Death eaters and Dementors between my cell and the outside word. And Voldemort himself, of course.

I need to speak to Snape. I haven't seen him since the beginning of my imprisonment. I wonder if the Dark Lord knows he's a spy. I'm pretty sure he didn't when I was captured, I remember standing inside the ring of Death eaters with Voldemort praising Snape for his work. He probably helped capture me...

What troubles me is that after my mind is blank. I supposed the Dark Lord came into the cell to question me, but I can't remember what really happened. Only that it hurt like hell.

If only I could escape... I feel the madness coming back. I try to hold on my sanity a little more longer, but it's so difficult. I'm losing myself...

I want out. I want to die. I want them to leave ...

Stop listening to me! Don't come closer! Go away, leave me alone! Go away, leave me alone! Leave me alone, leave me alone, leave me alone, LEAVE ME ALONE!!

Alone, alone alone...

They moved. I'm sure the walls are closer. They're spying on me. They don't want me to escape. If only I could explain to them, I don't want to go away, I just want to die! But as I try to say this to the walls all I can hear is my stutter and my coughing fit when I choke on my raw whispers.

**_It's too late_**

**_To save me_**

**_You're too late_**

**_You're too late..._**__

Light, blinding light. It burns me, it's eating me! Even the walls can't stand the walls, they're gone now. Not too far, but still away from me. I try to crawl to them to escape the cruel light but I can't move.

"Potter? Merlin, what did they do to you?"

Snape. Greasy Potion Master. Spy for Dumbledore. I got something I wanted to tell him, but I forgot what it was.

"Try to hold on, Potter. They will come soon, now that I know where you are. We'll get you out of here."

I want to laugh at these words. Doesn't he knows that it's too late? I can hear the walls slowly approaching us. They don't want me to go.

"Too late..." I croak weakly, then stop to cough blood.

"Here, drink that." He gives me a potion. Healing Draught.

I can't feel my throat any longer, it's strange. I kind of liked the raw feeling. It hurt but it was cool. It allowed me to know i was still here.

"What happened, Potter?" I can feel his hands lightly searching my ribs, feeling my broken legs.

"I don't remember. They threw me here and told the walls to watch me. They drove me insane, too. And Voldemort won't let me escape."

I can't believe I was able to say so many words without coughing or choking once.

"Walls watching you?" He gives them a surprised look then turn back to me. "Anyway, the Order will come soon. Do not die before."

Or what, he'll give me detention? Take house points? I start to laugh at the idea. I can hear the madness, and judging by by his eyes Snape can too. With a last look, he stands and leaves me, taking the cruel and blinding light away. Immediately the walls come closer. I'm sure they're laughing at the Potion Master with me.

Why can't he see that it's too late? They were already too late the moment I was captured.

You're cold with disappointment 

**While I'm drowning in the next room**

**The last contagious victim of this plague between us**

Scar hurting. I can feel Voldemort standing close to the cell. He seems furious for some reason, very disappointed. I don't really care to know why, I'm too sick. The pain is so great, it's already made me throw up many times. And since I've had nothing to eat, all I can do is choke on my bile and blood. I makes my throat hurt so much. It's like I'm drowning in the pain. If this goes on, I'm sure to choke myself to death. Not that it would really bother me.

It just isn't fair. Why am I the only one suffering from our connection? Before he took my blood, I could at last hurt him when he touched me. Now it's just me hurting. He doesn't even need to be that near to me. Really unfair. Once more, it makes me throw up.

I'm sick with apprehension 

**I'm crippled from exhaustion**

And I dread the moment when you finally come to kill me 

Something is happening. Finally. Voldemort left a while ago and he seemed happy. He still is, if my scar is trustworthy. I feel a tight knot forming in my sore throat. The anticipation is almost too much.

I _know_ there is something. But here in the dungeon, I cannot hear anything. Even if i could, If I were upstairs, I'm too exhausted and wounded to try to move.

Voldemort's laughing. I get some kind of visions, like flashes. Curses flowing everywhere. Is the Order attacking? They're mad! I told them it was useless!

The pain is greater. He has joined the battle. I feel every Cruciatus, Avada Kedavra and other dark curses he's sending. Another flash. White hairs falling, blue eyes once twinkling, now cold. Half moon spectacles crushed in the fall. The laugh again. Dumbledore is dead.

The battle goes on for a while, but I already know who's winning. They should have believed me. It _was_ too late.

Scar hurting again. He's here before me, red eyes coldly looking at me. I'm not sure I want to know what happens next.

"Harry Potter" He whispers.

We both know my name. Why does he always repeat it?

"The Light has failed. Dumbledore is dead. You're the lassst..."

So he's come to gloat. Fine. There's not much I can do except listen to him. If only he could stop always hissing!

"Everything went according to my plan, and this time you can't escape."

I already knew that, too. What was the plan?

"A very simple plan, really" He chuckles. "To use you as bait to lure the Muggle loving fools in a carefully laid trap. I knew they would not abandon their little savior. The greatest difficulty was to let them know where you where without it being too easy. They would have been suspicious then. A whole month of careful work to make sure Severus didn't get the hints too soon. He's a Slytherin, he could have understand. One of my finest Death eaters, Severus," he muses. "Too bad I 'll have to kill him. But now he's useless and dangerous."

"Why?" I whisper.

"Why? Simply because he no longer has a master. Albus was keeping him on a leash to make sure he would not do anything too rash. Quite a temper he has, Severus. Beside, I don't see the use of a spy when he has no one to report to. I can't feed him false informations any longer. Pity."

"You knew..."

"Of course I knew! The Dark Mark always tell me if I can trust my Death eaters or not. I knew since the very moment he stopped being faithful and betrayed me."

So, just like i knew, we never really stood a chance. Only my mother's love was able to best him. Hey Mum, you're the best, you know that?

"And now that I destroyed this pitiful Order, it's your turn to die Potter."

Faintly, I can see the soft glow of his power rushing into his wand. Wand which is currently pointing right between my eyes.

**This is the first _(thing I remember)_**__

Once more, one last time I hear my mother's screams and pleas. She gave her life to save me. Sorry Mum, Dad, Sirius, I wasn't strong enough.

**Now it's the last _(thing left on my mind)_**__

Strange how I can't think of anything else. I'm not even wondering if my friends are still alive. If they are, it won't be for long I guess.

**Afraid of the dark** **_(Do you hear me whisper?)_**__

Far above me, his red eyes are shining with power; The same power that glows around his wand, allowing me to see it; everything else is dark. Pitch black.

"Please" I hear myself whisper. He hears it too. Looks like I managed to make him laugh again. I don't even know what I'm begging for. Is it life? Death? Light? Release?

**An empty heart** **_(Replaced with paranoia)_**__

I have nothing left. Even my sanity is gone. I know it, He knows it, the walls know it.They're close, listening to us. The Rat is probably here too. Too bad, I really wanted him to die. I won't have the chance now.

Where do we go _(Life's temporary)___

**After we're gone _(Like New Years resolutions)_**__

I'll surely be dead in a few seconds now. I'll finally know what really happens. Will I see my parents or not? He has just too words to say, too little simple words. It should be easy for him, he's done it countless time before.

**Why is this hard** **_(Do you recognize me?)_**__

I feel my chest tightening again. What is he waiting for? If he's giving my Griffyndor side a last chance to show itself, he in for a disappointment. That part of me died. And. I. Want. To. Die. Too.

**I know I'm wrong** **_(But I can't help believing)_**

What if there's nothing after death? What if he doesn't kill me? I'll never be able to see my parents! He can't do that! The prophecy does say one of us has to die! He can't let me live, please don't let me survive like that! I want to see my parents, they must be waiting for me now. But if he doesn't... If there's nothing...

"Please" I murmur brokenly.

I sense the smirk. He was just basking in his triumph. The Great Harry Potter, Savior of the Wizarding world, laying broken at his feet, begging for death. Well, he got what he wanted, right?

"Avada Kedavra!"

Finally! A small smile of relief graces my features as I sense the powerful curse flow to me. Green light, like my eyes and Mum's. A death wind, flight of death. Vol de Mort.

Everything happening like it did that night, that cursed evening.

My last thought as the spell crashed into my head is that it does not hurt that much. And then...

Voldemort gave a last look at the torn body lying at his feet, then left the cell. He had a world to take over.

The End!

A/N: About the end, I'll let you use your imagination and decide where Harry goes, if he goes anywhere at all. No sequel.

Imihel


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